


Warriors: On Shadowed Wings -- Sidestories and Bonus Content

by Star_seeker



Series: Warriors: On Shadowed Wings [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_seeker/pseuds/Star_seeker
Summary: A collection for all the legends and stories of the OSW AU.  Summaries of individual chaptes/stories inside.





	1. Silverpelt, the Nameless, and the Firstborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A proper creation myth, something canon always seemed to lack.

_**Silverpelt, the Nameless, and the First Cats** _

_as told by Falconthroat, elder of Thunderclan_

* * *

 

 Once, in the long-ago, there was only one cat.  She is known to us today as Silverpelt, Mother of All.  From her kithood to her adulthood, she spent her time at play, hunting and sleeping as she liked.  But then as all things do, she grew lonely.  To try and ease that lonliness, Silverpelt shaped herself a litter of kittens.  Their names are lost to us now, but there was the Golden One, who had a mane of flame and claws as long as your tail.  That was her firstborn.  His littermates were four mollies, and Silverpelt loved them all fiercely. There was the Striped One, who had a pelt marked with bands of shadow and light, carrying the safety and comfort of the night with her wherever she went.  Then came the Spotted One, who swam through the rivers as though she were a fish, blending her mottled coat with the rocky bottom and leaping up waterfalls like a kit climbs a stump.  The fourth was the Speckled One, twin to the Spotted One and twice as swift – on land, anyway.  She was as golden-furred as any of her siblings I’ve mentioned, marked with drops of night like the sky is speckled with stars at night.  She ran like the wind and her eyes were the sharpest there have ever been.  The fifth and smallest of the litter was the Dappled One, who --  Yes, yes, I know, three of these cats have very similar coats.  You look like your littermates, Nettlekit, do you not?  Now hush.  As I was saying:

 

The five kittens were proud and strong, though they had their feuds as all siblings will.  The Striped One often grew impatient with the Spotted One’s incessant jokes and games, and the Dappled One would often try to best the Golden One and the Speckled One in physical contests, trying to prove that despite her small size, she was as fine a fighter as the others.  There are many tales of their trials and their triumphs, but those are for another night.  This is the story of how cats came into the world.

 

There must always be a balance to the world, for that is the way of life.  Just as Silverpelt existed, so did her opposite, the Nameless.  The Nameless was a vicious, uncaring thing.  It felt no urge to create, had no love in its heart.  Yet it was jealous of Silverpelt and her beautiful kits.  So the Nameless tried to shape its power into cats as well, so that it might not be alone in its hate.  But these beasts were born from hate and anger and envy, not love and a want for companionship as Silverpelt’s litter was.  That corruption twisted the creatures, making them into something that parodied catkind in a most disturbing way.  Great heavy jaws, glowing eyes, and a cry that sounded like sick laughter defined the eldest of the Nameless’ children.  The secondborn was further again, with great heavy claws, a long sharp snout, and a bone-chilling howl.  The third was a great, monsterous thing that devoured anything and everything in its path.  It had fangs longer than my tail, jutting up from the bottom of its jaw, and it was completely hairless, save for the sharp ridge of thorny fur that stuck up from its back.  Then, fourth, was a beast that bore a crude mimicry of the Striped One’s pelt, frost and darkness banding its face.  It was as wide as two cats, with massive paws and claws like fangs that it used to burrow beneath the earth.  The fifth and final of the litter was as close as the Nameless could come, with a bushy tail, large ears, and swift feet.  You can see these beasts’ children even now, in the dogs, foxes, badgers, weasels, and boar that run wild through our lands.

 

Now you see, Nettlekit, Silverpelt had taken the time to fashion a place in the world for her kits to be.  This forest that surrounds us, it was born from the Great Mother’s love for her children.  The Nameless had not bothered to make such a place for its children; some say that it even abandoned them into our lands, disgusted with how unlike Silverpelt’s children they were.  The Nameless’ children ran rampant through the forest, trailing death and destruction in their wake.  They knew no other way, of course.  It was simply part of their being, like how we must hunt to eat.  Silverpelt was saddened by this, and turned her face away from the world for the first time, seeking a way to help and heal these monsters.  Her children, however, were angered by the destruction of their home, and they viewed their mother’s compassion as betrayal.  Working together, the Five drove the First and Third beasts from the land.  The Second Beast had found allies in the Otherkind, and the Fifth was too clever and fast for even the Speckled One to catch.  The Fourth Beast dug deep into the ground, making a home deep in the heart of the earth, where no cat could reach it.  Still, Silverpelt’s Children tried and tried to force their enemies out, losing many cats in the process.

 

In time, Silverpelt returned her attention to her children, hoping to see that they were living well in the time she’d been gone.  To her horror, the blood of cat and beast had been spilt, all in effort to claim territory.  Silverpelt summoned her firstborn before her, to demand their reasoning and deliver her punishment.

 

The Golden One was proud and foolish, and thought that he would be rewarded for his actions.  He boasted that he had devised the idea of driving the beasts away himself, declaring that he had done most of the work.  For his actions, Silverpelt banished him and those of his children that had assisted him to the furthest regions, where they had chased the largest and fiercest of the First Beasts, so that they might know the struggles they had forced upon their cousins.

 

The Striped One bowed her head and claimed that she had gone along with her brother’s plan to try and keep the younger ones out of it, as perhaps it would have been enough if the two of them had worked alone.  The Dappled One disagreed, announcing that she had talked her elder sisters into it, that the blame was hers to take.  Soon all four began to argue, each insisting that they were to blame and their sisters should be spared.  In confusion and fury, Silverpelt banished them all, sending them away with their descendants to the corners of the earth, so that they might be able to watch over the Nameless’ children for her.

 

Now, after her firstborn, Silverpelt had borne more kittens, as had each of her children.  These cats were large and powerful, but they were too great to survive in the destruction the war had wrought.  Summoning the last of her strength, Silverpelt shrank her children and grandchildren, so that their bodies might not require so much food and shelter.  And with that, she ascended to the skies to rest and search for a way to correct her firstborn’s actions.  It is when she turns her face fully upon us at the full moon that we gather in peace, so that we might not cause her more distress with our squabbles and wars.

 

Thus did cats as we know them come to be.  Now, Nettlekit, you know it’s getting late.  Can’t you hear your mother calling for you?  Off to bed, I’ll tell you more stories tomorrow.


	2. The Tragedy of Mapleflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This AU's spin on Mapleshade's Vengance

_**The Tragedy of Mapleflower** _

_as told by Sagepelt, elder of Windclan_

* * *

 

Rainpaw, Falconpaw, are you both staying home from the Gathering tonight?  Ah, well, that’s too bad.  Maybe I can cheer you up with a story.  Is there one in particular you’d like to hear?

 

Ah, Mapleflower’s tale?  That one’s not a happy one, you know.  Alright, alright, since you want to hear it again, I’ll tell it.  Hush now, and let your grandmother Sagepelt settle her old bones.

 

Once upon a time, many seasons ago, there lived a beautiful and brilliant warrior named Mapleflower.  She was much beloved by Thunderclan, and all four Clans knew of her bravery and selflessness.  Many cats courted her, but her heart had long been claimed.  But herein lies the seed of this tragedy, for young Mapleflower was madly in love with a warrior of Riverclan, a tom named Ryetalon.  Both cats knew their affair was against the code, yet neither could deny the pull of their hearts—

 

Rainpaw, don’t make faces.  You wanted to hear this story, and I’m going to tell it to you.  Now, as I was saying:

 

Both cats knew their love was against the laws they both agreed to live by, but neither cat could live without the other.  They met in secret, slipping out of their camps to meet at Fourtrees when their duties were done.  Around them, though, tensions were growing higher between their Clans.

 

You see, my dears, the river once ran a different course.  Seasons upon seasons ago, it cut around the other side of Sunningrocks, so that the stones were on Riverclan’s side of the border.  But for whatever reason, Starclan’s will or a strange stroke of fate, the river changed course after one dire flood.  The rocks were on Thunderclan’s side of the river now, and both Clans were certain that the rocks truly belonged to them.  Neither Clan thought to ask Starclan of it, perhaps because they feared they were wrong.  Shadowclan and we in Windclan have always been more willing to defer to our ancestors than our proud neighbors.

 

But I digress – It was around this time that Mapleflower realized she was pregnant with Ryetalon’s kits.  Nothing could have made the molly happier – In these kits, she saw not only the joy of herself and her mate, but an end to the feud between Thunderclan and Riverclan.  After all, how could the Clans argue over something as silly as a pile of stone when they were united by a litter of strong and brave young kits?  Excited, Mapleflower resolved to tell Ryetalon at the next Gathering, less than a quarter-moon away.

 

Unfortunately, the very next night, a fierce and vicious battle erupted over Sunningrocks.  In the fighting, Ryetalon struck a Thunderclan cat too hard, and the tom lost his footing and was swept into the raging river below.  His apprentice followed him, trying to save her mentor, and unfortunately both cats met their end among the rocks.  Those cats were Birchfang, son of the Thunderclan leader Oakstar, and Juniperpaw, kin to both the Thunderclan deputy and medicine cat.  Their whole clan mourned their loss bitterly, and blamed Ryetalon for both deaths.

 

Still full of faith that the kits would one day unite the two Clans, Mapleflower hurried through the Gathering’s crowds to tell Ryetalon of her pregnancy.  Fear edged her joy now, however, and the young warrior was more careless than usual.  As she spoke to her beloved, the Thunderclan medicine cat, Ravencloud, overheard.  Full of fury and pain at Mapleflower’s betrayal, he told Oakstar of the news immediately.  Unable to wait until the Gathering was over, Oakstar summoned Mapleflower before all four Clans, charged, and exiled her on the spot.  Unable to do anything less, Darkstar called Ryetalon forth.

 

For a moment, Mapleflower was able to console herself – Her Clan had abandoned her but surely her mate would remain by her side.  Then, to everyone’s disbelief, the tom begged forgiveness and turned his back on Mapleflower, declaring his heart had always belonged to the Riverclan molly Poppystream.  Shocked by his disloyalty to both Clan and mate, Darkstar and Poppystream both refused him, and he was sent into exile.  Full of anguish, Mapleflower stood at the foot of the Great Rock and laid a curse upon Thunderclan and Riverclan alike:

 

_“I had hoped that the kits I bear would one day bring Thunderclan and Riverclan together, but now I see that that will never happen in my time.  One day, both Clans will fight as one, but until that day, this story will repeat itself again and again – A cat of the river and a cat of the wood will fall in love, and it will end in tragedy until both Riverclan and Thunderclan can set aside their wars and stand together in peace.”_

 

And with that, Mapleflower walked away from Fourtrees, never to be seen again.  Some say she died – Thunderclan will certainly say so, of course – and others say she lived out her years with the Twolegs.  But others whisper of a spectral queen who lurks around those four great oaks, weaving fate and chance together until two young apprentices from warring Clans stumble into her trap.  So mind yourselves, little ones, when you speak to your friends at the next Gathering.  It has been long enough since her death that Mapleflower’s ghost may not recognize or care that you’re Windclan born, and steal your hearts away for her games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Windclan’s version of this tale was chosen because it is considered more accurate than either Riverclan’s or Thunderclan’s version – Thunderclan says Ryetalon slew Mapleflower himself after she fell to madness, and Riverclan insists he joined her in exile. Shadowclan also has no bias, but they also don’t care enough about the story to remember it in any sort of detail.


End file.
